Zelda, non-attachment, and Christianity

The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time is one my favorite pieces of art in any medium. In my modest home collection, I have a ceramic version of the titular instrument, a cardboard reproduction of the Nintendo 64 box, a poster depicting Link outside the Forest Temple and a faux map of the game’s world. Perhaps the item I most want to add next is a used copy of the Versus Books strategy guide.

All of these, in their own small way, transport me back to Christmas Day 1998, when I received the game from my parents. I’d been hinting for months, not too subtly, that this was the gift I wanted more than any other. I was eleven at the time, which is just about the perfect age to play the epic fantasy adventure. I associate the title with the comfort and simplicity of the happy childhood I was blessed to have.

In retrospect, dialogue does not play a major role in the game. It’s all text based. The voice acting is made up of an occasional grunt or shout. So, in quoting the title, which it should be said, was originally developed in Japanese, there isn’t a lot to work with. Most often, fans reference a speech made by Princess Zelda, in disguise as a Sheikah warrior, to Link outside the aforementioned temple.

“The flow of time is always cruel,” she says. “Its speed seems different for each person, but no one can change it.” Lately, as I approach middle age, I’ve been thinking about this quote, particularly the first half of it. Is the flow of time always cruel? To a certain extent, yes. Death, for instance, is inevitable. But it occurs to me, as a perennialist, one of the goals of all the great religions is to transcend this cruelty.

In my understanding, a central concept of Eastern spirituality is non-attachment. A Hindu, Buddhist or Jain might say it’s not the flow of time that causes suffering, it’s our attachment to the past, to the body, and to the material world. Non-attachment is frequently misinterpreted to mean a cold remove from others, but, as far as I can tell, it’s really about cultivating a non-possessive love.

Abrahamic religions might not discuss this concept quite as clearly, however I think they aim for the same goal. I’m going to talk about Christianity here, because that’s the tradition I’ve been most exposed to, growing up in a largely secular household. Take the so-called Seven Deadly Sins, which, admittedly, is a scary name. It’s a grouping of major vices developed by Tertullian, Evagrius Ponticus, and others.

The list, as it’s known today, includes pride, greed, wrath, envy, lust, gluttony and sloth. What is this, if not a guide of behavior to avoid so as to grow one’s sense of non-attachment? Of course, I have all these negative traits in spades. I think spiritual perfection is an ideal we strive toward but ultimately can never reach. The flow of time is cruel to the extent one clings to the past, the body and the material world.

Ironically, my domestic shrine to The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time is a clear example of attachment to an earlier period of my life. Like I said, I’m deeply flawed! Such nostalgia doesn’t fit neatly within a single one of the Seven Deadly Sins. Perhaps, it’s an amalgam of multiple. Interestingly, Ponticus’s list of Eight Evil Thoughts included sadness, which might best describe this kind of yearning for the past.